Parrot
by pause.rewind.PLAY
Summary: Parrot is pissed that Max and her flock get to be famous while SHE'S stuck robbing banks and eating McDonalds. When she gets a message from ex-member Fang, she finds that maybe the flock isn't so bad after all. FangMax, slight Fang/OC but mostly Iggy/OC.
1. I

My jaw dropped.

WHY THE HELL DO _THEY_ GET TO BE ON TV WITH PRETTY DRESSES AND ADORING FANS AND—

I guess I better explain.

My name is Parrot. No, literally, it's Parrot. Okay so maybe I was named something different by my mom, but I named myself when I was a kid. Rightfully so; I was 5% parrot. I had the same colorful exotic wings (16 feet, thank you very much) and bright eyes, one red the other green. And much to my horror, I had naturally green hair—thus the consequences of having more than 2% bird genes unlike THOSE stupid brats on TV.

Once I escaped Itex I dyed my hair black, robbed a bank (I'm not even kidding. It's pretty easy when you have the power to mimic other's voices) and ran like hell. I bounced from motel to motel, no real idea of where I was going, and one fateful night I happened to switch the motel TV on and saw them.

Bird kids.

In shiny dresses and waving at the camera like buffoons.

Okay, _what_?

I mean, I get the whole stupid famous thing, yeah, whatever. But this was just ridiculous. Why do they get to flounce around popping open their wings and get paid and adored by humans, while I simply got spit at and chased away? It's so not FAIR. I hated them from the moment I saw their dumb grins as they flapped their pretty little wings around.

Dude. So so _so_ not _fair_.

I grumbled and raved as I stormed about the room, throwing toilet paper I had gotten from the store (the toilet paper at the motel was gross and moldy, urgh) and shouting at the TV obscenely. I knew throwing a tantrum wouldn't magically make me loved and rich like they were, but it made me feel better.

I had to stop when an employee said I got complaints and had to keep it down.

I ended up sleeping fitfully that night and woke up determined. When I was in that Itex building, my mother, a scientist, liked to take me out of my cage every now and then and walked me around. On my birthday one year she showed me the internet, but didn't let me go on it again.

So when I escaped, naturally, I made one of those free blog site things. I heard that one kid (what was his name? Bang? Lang? Rang? Hang? Whatever.) made one and it was like, totally popular now. Even human kids cheered him on and helped him. They offered food and shelter. So jealous!

So, I made one. It wasn't popular at all, at first. Kids posted comments mocking me, calling me fake. So I stole a fancy camera and took a photo op of myself, spreading out my wings and making little model poses. When I posted them up, new comments (positive this time) poured in. Proud, I updated as often as I could.

So, that morning after I got my things together, I used the hotel computer to update.

**

* * *

**

Subject: PO'ed and hungry

Okay so, I saw the tv this morning and OMG wtf is with those bird kids? They were like, strutting down the catwalk like little models. Is it even morally OK to use their horrifying mutant wings to get fans and fame? How UNFAIR! I bet if I were to go to Hollywood and offer my services, they'd laugh in my face. I mean srsly. I hate them so much!! Stupid bird kids and their stupid genius—GASP! What if they met Jensen Ackles!? Oh god no, I want to meet Jensen frigging Ackles! Gyah, now I REALLY hate them! And I know, I know, you must be like "but they have wings like you, Parrot, why so mad?" I'll tell you why. THEY get love and fans and money, and I get crappy motel rooms, angry pedestrian abuse, etc. I mean where's the fairness in that? Special treatment, I say! Just because they travel in flocks doesn't make them any better than me!!!! Does it…???

(PS: I could totally go for a muffin right now…)

* * *

I ended up soaring above California, which was sort of ironic seeing that the bird kids I hated so much were there at the moment. I contemplated paying them a bitter visit but decided I would rather go to the beach instead.

So I did. I landed on the beach, somewhere obscured of course, and instantly went for the water. I had only been to the ocean once before when I first escaped. I really liked it here.

After frolicking in the water for a while I got a hotel room, noticing that I was running low on money. I prayed there was a bank nearby.

What? Don't give me that look! Just because I'm not all mary-sue and have enough _morals _to live clean doesn't mean I'm not lonely too! I mean, those famous bird people have each other to survive, I have no one. So what if I rob a bank every now and then to live modestly? Geez.

So, I checked into a beachside hotel, deciding to splurge the rest of my money for a mini-vacation. After I unpacked my (very few) things, I decided to check my blog on the computer. I logged in, scrolling through the usual boring comments, when one caught my eye.

Fang.

Fang.

Faaaaang.

Hmm, why did that name sound familiar?

**

* * *

**

Subject: RE: PO'ed and hungry

I wasn't aware other bird people had blogs, too.

Want to meet up?

-Fang

* * *

Um, what?

Other bird people? So he was…oh, no way. I never got these sorts of messages. I hesitated but clicked the reply button, hastily typing in my reply before I decided to go soak in some sun.

**

* * *

**

Subject: RE: RE: PO'ed and hungry

If you promise not to rape me, sure. Just name the time and place.

xoxo, Parrot :)


	2. II

"Ouch." I grimaced as I tried to twist around to rub Aloe on my back. After I sent Fang a reply, I had spent the rest of the day playing at the beach. Well it turned out me and the sun don't get along so great, 'cause next thing I know my back hurts like a bitch and it's all red and burnt. And whenever I moved my wings my back _hurt_. Even more so when I touched it with my hand. God. California sucks.

I got Aloe at the hotel gift shop and was, at the moment, having issues applying it. I sat on my bed, the TV blaring on about some infomercial and once I managed to slick some Aloe on my back the cold of it sent delightful tingles across my skin and I sighed deeply.

"Aw, yeah," I mumbled as I tossed the bottle and lay on my side. Let's just say I had a very…troublesome sleep.

The next day I checked the computer, somewhat excited to see what Fang said.

* * *

**Subject: RE: RE: RE: PO'ed and hungry**

Where are you now?

-Fang

* * *

I rolled my eyes. How suave. I opened up a chat room (compliments of the free site) and grinned when Fang got the hint and joined it. I snorted at his boring screen name.

**Mime:** Nice name dude.  
**Fang**: What?  
**Mime**: Nothing. I'm in California.  
**Fang**: Oh.  
**Mime**: Oh? Don't you want to meet up, mr. rapist?  
**Fang**: I'm not going to rape you.  
**Mime**: Well, ok, if you say so. :)  
**Fang**: I can be there in a day. Want to meet up tomorrow night?  
**Mime**: How about we meet down in San Diego? That's where I am right now. We can meet up at the beach—I'll message you the details. Sound good?  
**Fang:** Sure.  
**Mime**: Why so eager to meet up anyway?  
**Fang**: It isn't everyday you stumble on a bird kid's blog.  
**Mime**: Touche. ttyl.  
**Fang**: what?  
**Mime**: talk to you later.

I rolled my eyes and gave him the info then signed out. This Fang guy seemed like a real stick in the mud. I spent the whole day in bed, tending my sunburn, and by the next day it began to peel. Gross, I know, but I guess they, er, genetically engineered my skin so it had super-fast healing effects? Maybe, or something like that.

So the day I said I'd meet with him, I suited up in my red bikini (oh hell yeah bitches, hyahyahya!) and headed over to the beach, wrapping one of those dark blue pull-over robe-y things you put over bathing suits. I even had a sunhat for effect.

I squinted in the sun, as if he might fly out of the sky. Yeah, as far-fetched as it sounded, I wouldn't be that surprised. Ever since that stuck-up flock advertised their wings, people treated them like celebrities or something.

I sighed and sat down, lying on my back and sighing in bliss on the cool sand (though my wings hurt a bit as my back put pressure on them).

I was rudely interrupted hours later when a foot smashed against my face.

"HEY!" I flailed to emphasize my distress, pushing at his foot. I managed to pull back enough to look up. A boy looked down on me, ruffled brown hair falling across his oh-so-gorgeous blue eyes.

Oh, melt I did.

"Sorry!" he apologized, retreating sheepishly. "I didn't see you there."

I really like his blue swim trunks.

Oh, and his legs.

Mmmm. Nice and long.

"Uhh," he said, snapping me out of my creepy stare. I smiled at him, rubbing at the small dribble of drool on the corner of my mouth.

"Sorry, I zoned out. Ah, it's fine," I shrugged, patting the cheek he had stepped on. I will never wash it again. Hur hur. "I have cheeks of steel."

He laughed. "I'm Jeff."

"Madison," I lied easily, batting my eyelashes at him. Usually I introduced myself as Parrot, but this guy was _hot_ and like hell I'd tell him I named myself after a bird.

"I was headed over to the beach bonfire," he said, motioning to a loud group of teens hustled around a large fire. "Wanna join me?" Then he flashed me those pearly whites. Ohooo. Mister rapist/Fang could wait. I had a cute boy to deal with.

"Of course," I said with a giggle, following behind him. What, don't give me that look. Like you wouldn't do the same if a hot guy stepped on your face then asked if you wanted to join him around a dangerous big fire! Yeah, I thought so.

I sat down and his little friends zeroed in on my in an instant.

"Who is this?"

"What's with the hat?"

"Cool contacts!"

"Where did she come from?"

Etcetera, etcetera. I put on a big fake smile and nodded, politely answering their questions, most of them being lies. At one point Jeff finally swooped in to save me and wrapped his arm around me, pulling me away from the excited group.

"Come on guys leave her alone," he smiled at me. I returned it. "Madison is _my_ date."

I rolled my eyes but grinned.

And then _it_ happened.

I know, maybe putting the 'it' in italics to make it seem really epic is a bit much, but I mean come on, it's pretty damn epic when a boy with big black wings suddenly swoops down onto the beach.

And maybe the 'it' would need italics if said black-winged boy was actually _seen_, but no, only I saw him because everyone else was focused on Jeff and I.

Oh boy.

"I have to go," I said reluctantly, resisting the urge to glare at the boy, who stood on the beach silently, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. I flashed Jeff an apologetic smile. "Thanks for everything."

"Uh, Madison, wait," he said as I turned away.

"Bye," I waved and hurried off. Once I reached the boy I eyed him wearily, stopping next to him and crossing my arms.

"So….Fang?" I asked. He blinked at me and nodded solemnly. Well, he sure looked like I imagined him to be. Dark dark dark—black hair and black clothes and dark, gloomy stance. A real stick in the mud. Hurrah.

"You know, you could be a bit more settle about your wings," I said. "Someone could have seen you."

"But they didn't," was his reply.

I stared at him. He smirked. _Smirked._

Oh boy.

What _have _I gotten myself into _this_ time?


End file.
